


Oh Under-Butler Fair

by Riotstar



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Humor, M/M, Poetry, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:40:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29950794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riotstar/pseuds/Riotstar
Summary: "You were readin' love poetry!""So what?""Didn't have you pegged as the soppy type.""Didn't have you pegged as a thief… actually, I did, give that back."
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Oh Under-Butler Fair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dragons_in_the_north](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragons_in_the_north/gifts), [irrationalgame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/irrationalgame/gifts).



> Jimmy writes awful poetry, and Thomas confesses his love. Blame the Thomas Barrow Fandom Discord XD

"What are you reading?" 

Thomas sits in the armchair by the fire in the Servant's Hall, holding a small leather bound book; Jimmy leans over the back of the chair and squints at it. Thomas slams it shut and quickly tucks it back in his pocket, hoping Jimmy didn't have time to see what it was; "Nothing."

"Looked like somethin' to me."

"None of your business, that's what."

"Alright, keep your secrets." Jimmy sulks.

~

Hours later, Jimmy sneaks into Thomas's room, while Thomas is using the bathroom. He finds what he's looking for, and grins like the cat that got the cream. He waits on Thomas's bed, the book open in his hands.

"You were readin' love poetry!"

"So what?"

"Didn't have you pegged as the soppy type."

"Didn't have you pegged as a thief… actually, I did, give that back."

"Can I borrow it?"

"No."

~

A piece of paper, slipped under Thomas's door in the middle of the night, it reads:

_Oh Under-butler fair, I am stricken_

_Your beauty my pulse does quicken_

_When I'm near you I'm all a flutter_

_Like Daisy when she drops the butter_

~

"Jimmy, what's this?" Thomas holds the piece of paper out to him.

"Never seen it before in my life."

"It's awful."

"I thought it was clever."

~

Days later, Thomas leaves a magazine on the table after breakfast, when he goes back downstairs to retrieve it, another piece of paper falls out:

_Eyes like ice and skin like frost_

_A scowling face that's always cross_

_My heart doth weep, for I am sad_

_To hear you say my poems are bad_

~

"I'm sorry I said your poem was awful, but, they _are_ terrible..." 

Jimmy laughs in response; "Think you can do any better?"

"Maybe."

"Prove it."

~

Weeks pass, Jimmy has almost forgotten about the poems and the challenge he put to Thomas, when he enters his bedroom and finds, on a sheet of expensive, high quality paper, in a meticulous hand:

_A doomed lover watches on, unbidden_

_As his gold-haired beloved does not see_

_Does not know the ache he carries, hidden_

_To speak his love, love that can never be_

_And yet still he watches, wishing, hoping_

_That one day his dearest might turn and say_

_That he knows, and takes comfort in knowing_

_That he is loved, unspoken, every single day_

_If I could, I would let my soul soar free_

_In some Elysium where, finding yours_

_We would entwine, embrace and there would be_

_No fear, no scorn, only love that endures_

_I loved you before I knew you, my light_

_My life, my hope, my sunlight, blazing bright_

~

The next day, Thomas, searching through his chest of drawers for his smokes, finds the carton empty; the following words scrawled on the back:

_Dear Thomas,_

_Your hair is black,_

_I want you to jack_

_Me off, Ps._

_I finished_

_Your cigarette pack_

"Little shit."

~

"Jimmy, this really isn't funny anymore." Thomas is hurt, and letting it show.

"That one was meant to be serious."

"...What?" 

Jimmy lowers his eyes, guiltily; "I liked your poem, no one's ever said anything that nice about me before."

Thomas gapes; "...So you thought me jacking you off was the logical next step?" Jimmy blushes in response.

"Well, not exactly, but, maybe you could say nice things to me in person, and maybe I'd say nice things back." Thomas's mouth is working but no sound comes out. Jimmy approaches, placing a hand on Thomas's shoulder. "I'm not very good with words." He murmurs; leans in, and lets his silent lips speak for him. 


End file.
